


Mariage d'amour

by Tiofrean



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Frottage, M/M, Michonne Saves the Day, Nightmares, Polyamory Negotiations, Relationship Discussions, Rick is Bad at Communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 15:44:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13149795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiofrean/pseuds/Tiofrean
Summary: Rick can't stand not having Daryl. He needs Daryl in his life, by his side, in his bed... Thankfully Michonne knows what her husband needs and is A-okay with that. Now if Rick can only convey the message to his hunter...





	Mariage d'amour

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This has been picking dust in my docs for a while... Finally I decided to air it out and finish it. 
> 
> Many thanks to Sorran for beta work on this one! <3 <3 <3 She has nerves of steel, dealing with my mistakes, let me tell ya! All remaining mistakes are mine, probably because I was too stubborn to change something. 
> 
> Enjoy y'all!

Rick’s hands were tied. Literally - a long strip of duct tape was holding his wrists together as he was paraded through the streets of Alexandria. He dragged his feet, not wanting to go, knowing he _had to_. It was weird, some kind of invisible force pushing him forward even if his whole body told him to _stop_. They were rounding the corner, and Rick knew something bad was behind it. He just _knew it_ , like people know impending doom by the overwhelming chill and their hair standing on ends. But his feet carried him on even as Rick tried to stop them, to turn around and run away, not to face whatever was waiting for him _there_.

He stumbled. Looked down. A hand… no, a _whole arm_. Severed from the body, the cut still fresh and oozing blood. Rick swallowed, tried not to think of how there was a dirty, smudged spot of ink just above the crook of the elbow. He marched on, turning around once, glancing back. Just to make sure… The hand was different. Smaller, _thinner_ , almost _childlike_. It wasn’t the whole arm either, just a bit of flesh over the wrist and a palm attached to it.

Abruptly, Rick stopped, as if he had walked into an invisible wall. He turned around. They were behind the corner already. He knew what he would see there on the ground before he even had the chance to take in the scene. More tattoos, this time clear, contrasting starkly with the pale skin. _Too pale_ , the blood keeping it pink and warm now flowing down the street. Rick watched it, watched the little ripples moving to him, to his feet, touching his boots, _soaking into the leather soles_. His feet were cold, suddenly numb as he raised his eyes again, trying not to scream. He couldn’t scream, he had lost that privilege a long time ago.

Negan was circling him, silent and deadly, appearing on his every side all at once. It didn’t matter where Rick turned, Negan’s face would be there, taunting, mocking, laughing at him. _“I own you, Rick."_ It wasn’t right. _It wasn’t…_

But it was. Rick closed his eyes and opened them again, blinking furiously, trying to chase away the picture he was seeing. But the picture remained. He wanted to move, to walk, he wanted to strangle Negan… But there was something heavy in his hand. He gazed down, eyes widening in shock when he saw Lucille dangling from his palm which was no longer tied to the other one, the bat painted angry red. It dripped from it, dripped just to _splash_ on the ground. Rick followed the little droplets with regret, watched as they disappeared in the deep redness of the sea of blood that was already there. His boots were soaked in it, painted with the same crimson shade up to his ankles.

He wanted to jerk himself away from there, but his feet were rooted to the spot, he wanted to move but he couldn’t. All he could do was look forward, see the open blue eyes staring back at him, the picture changing into a grotesque mask as he watched. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t real. _It wasn’t…_

 

-&-

 

Rick jolted awake and Michonne gave a relieved sigh. She had been trying to wake him up from whatever nightmare had caught him, but it had been almost impossible to do. She had tried talking, shaking him, shouting at him, nothing had seemed to work. Her heart had almost broken at the sight of her lover curled up on the blankets that were now their bed, mumbling something, whining as if he had been in pain. Just when she had thought about getting a bucket of water, not able to stand Rick jerking around as if he had been touched by a live wire, Rick had suddenly opened his eyes.

He came to so violently, so abruptly, he sat up, covers falling off of him and pooling at his hips. He was breathing hard, wild eyes darting around to orient himself, finally settling on Michonne.  
“Just a dream, Rick” she whispered soothingly, reaching for him with one hand, withdrawing it when he jolted back, his shaking fingers scrambling over the blanket they were sitting on. For a few seconds he just sat there, staring at her, eyes so empty she was scared he was still dreaming. But then, Rick brought his knees up to his chest, placed both his hands atop them and hid his face in his palms. It was quiet, _so eerily quiet_ , Rick seemed to barely breathe, and Michonne frowned, fear mixing with the love she felt for Rick almost choking her.

“It was just a dream” she said again. “It’s alright, it wasn’t real.”

Rick heard the words, but he couldn’t stop his brain from telling him that yes, it was real, it was _so very real_. He heaved in a few breaths, lungs burning, his body telling him only now just how little oxygen it had. He tried to control it, tried not to let the panic from his dream return, but it was all for naught. His breathing came out as uneven sobs, ones he tried to fight with all his strength, but it was futile. His whole frame started to shake, little gasps followed by hiccups and he just _couldn’t breathe properly_. He had seen Daryl - in his dream and in reality - he had seen him and looked at him, and Daryl had looked _back_. But Daryl’s eyes had been so pained, a gaze that seemed so hurt and broken that Rick’s own heart squeezed itself into knots. It was his fault. Somehow, in some way, it was _his fault_ that Daryl had been taken from them. And now he couldn’t do shit about it. He couldn’t do shit, because the Saviours had Daryl and they could do whatever the fuck they wanted… And Daryl, the fearless hunter, he would just take it, because he was resigned or because he felt guilty, Rick didn’t know.

And then, the thought hit him. Daryl thought Maggie was dead, too. Daryl had been standing right next to them when Gabriel had pulled off his little stunt and there just hadn’t been enough time, enough _chances,_ to set it right. It was a nightmare he was living in, and a nightmare Rick was stuck in, too. He wanted Daryl back, he was the last piece of his family that was missing. He _needed_ Daryl back to be able to start thinking clearly. Rick was aware that he had to form some kind of a plan, a way out of this hell they had managed to land themselves in. But he couldn’t do shit when such a valued, crucial part of him was missing.

Michonne’s warm palm placed gently on his shoulder tore him out of his thoughts. He looked to the side, opening his mouth and closing it, not really knowing what to say, feeling he should say something. Michonne shook her head slightly, the hand on Rick’s shoulder squeezing softly, before she tugged him closer.  
“Come here” She whispered. Rick let himself fall down, curling around her and pressing his face into her side. The skin under his lips was warm, and the even rise and fall of her chest as she settled next to him was comforting. But Rick’s body was still trembling; every time he closed his eyes for a brief moment, the pictures from his dream would come back and smash right into his heart, making it squeeze painfully. He tried to press even closer, but there was no space left to cross and he shivered pitifully. He felt Michonne shift a little, drawing the blanket back up, tucking it around his shoulders, and he heaved out a sigh, trying to calm down.

“It was Daryl, wasn’t it?” Michonne asked after a longer moment and Rick frowned, leaning back to look at her. “That dream. It was about Daryl, wasn’t it?” She clarified and Rick nodded.  
“Yeah… I don’t _know…_ ” he whispered the last part, closing his eyes and pressing back against her side.  
“It’s okay” Michonne took her hand and started to gently thread through his curls, all messed up after his fitful sleep. “You love him, it’s okay…” At that, Rick’s whole body went stiff as a board. He didn’t move, didn’t blink, he couldn’t seem to make his lungs work properly. Once he managed to take in a shaky breath, all he could whisper was a quiet and barely-there “sorry” over and over again. He was falling apart and he was aware of it, he was just happy that he had Michonne to hold him together. He knew she could do that.

But somehow, it wasn’t enough. Daryl wasn’t there and Rick needed him just as much as he needed Michonne. Right in that moment, Rick could have been screaming his frustration out, sure that, if given half a chance, he would be howling like a wounded animal. But, whether it was for Michonne’s arms wrapping around his quaking body, or the fear of waking up the whole town, Rick managed to stop himself from wailing.  
“Jesus, Rick. It’s fine, we’ll find a way to get him out of there” she whispered into his ear, one of her hands running soothingly up and down his back.

“How did you know?” He asked after a moment, voice barely above whisper, brain only now catching up with what Michonne had said earlier. _You love him..._  
“I have eyes, you know?” Michonne snarked, but there was no venom in her tone, just that internal eye-roll she seemed to have permanently attached to everything she said about something she deemed obvious.  
“I’m…”  
“Rick, I swear to god” she stopped him, before he could fall into another bout of pitiful apologies. “If you say you’re sorry one more time I will punch you” she stated seriously. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You love him, and we’ll get him out of there” she brought her fingers back to his hair and brushed through it soothingly.

The conversation that followed was both painful and cathartic for Rick. They talked about relationships, about love, friendship and desire. Rick listened intently to what Michonne had to say about her boyfriend and his best friend. She listened to all the drama that had gone down in Rick’s marriage and how Rick and Lori hadn’t really even been a couple long before the apocalypse had started. Between angry tears and trembling hands, Rick admitted to his feelings for Shane, just to have the wetness on his cheeks brushed away by Michonne’s gentle fingers. She hadn’t met Shane or Lori, but she was more understanding than the both of them had ever been.

The next morning, Rick woke up with a mission. He had a goal.

 

-&-

 

Daryl woke up in a dimly lit room with Jesus’ face in his line of vision.  
“Where…?” He managed to rasp out, before his voice failed him, tapering off into a scratchy, unpleasant sound. Jesus smiled gently and held a glass of water to his lips, tipping it slowly to help Daryl drink it.  
“We’re in Hilltop. You passed out as soon as we crossed the gates” he explained in a soft voice that made Daryl close his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Jesus was still there, looking down at him with that same happy and delicate smile, and Daryl had to resist the urge to flip him off. Their association hadn’t started well, but now he had to admit he really liked him.

“You should eat something” Jesus announced and reached for something on the bedside table right next to Daryl’s head. The hunter watched his movements, squinting at the bowl he produced, as Jesus seated himself a bit closer to him. “Maggie made you soup, you’re dehydrated and malnourished, and it should help with both” he explained, using the spoon to stir it. Daryl’s eyes flicked to the soup, before he scrambled back, sitting himself upright with a groan, feeling his muscles protest his every move.  
“Give it here” he let Jesus set the bowl on a spare pillow on Daryl’s lap and didn’t huff or scoff at how Jesus still held it tightly with his palm, helping to balance it. Daryl took the utensil and just as he was about to put the first spoonful into his mouth, he paused, brain catching on what the other man had just said.

“ _What?_ ” Daryl breathed, letting the spoon fall from his suddenly numb fingers back into the bowl with a splash. “Maggie…”  
“Yeah, I’m fine” a gentle, happy voice sounded to his left and Daryl turned so fast that if it hadn’t been for Jesus’ hand still holding the bowl, the soup would have been everywhere.  
“ _Maggie…_ ” Daryl stared at the woman standing in the doorway, beaming at him.  
“You’re back” Maggie sighed and stepped closer, leaning down to wrap both arms around Daryl in an awkward hug.  
“Maggie… I thought… _Fuck…_ ” it was all Daryl could mumble, for in the next moment, Maggie was sitting down next to him, still holding him tightly, arms wrapped around his back in a way that told him she didn’t want to part anytime soon. Strangely, it didn’t make him feel the need to pull away. Something must have changed in him over the years, or maybe in the Sanctuary? Daryl didn’t know, but he didn’t mind. He needed that comfort and he was determined to take it.

When Maggie finally pulled away, he was handed his soup back, and he ate it while talking with her and listening to what had happened while he was away.

 

-&-

 

The moment Rick saw Daryl in Hilltop was equally wonderful and painful. The overwhelming relief of seeing Daryl, _his_ Daryl, was mixing with dread when Rick saw just how beaten up Daryl appeared. The hunter was trying to stand straight and be strong, but Rick could see how he was cracking at the edges, how the careful facade was about to crumble down. He walked closer to him, inclining his head a bit to ask if Daryl was alright, to reassure him that it was all fine if he wasn’t. Daryl’s first reaction was a small nod in his direction, the instinctual need to reassure him that Daryl was alive and fine. But then his face fell and his head bowed down and Rick just couldn’t stand there any longer.

He moved swiftly, arms rising before he even thought about embracing his hunter, and in the blink of an eye, he was holding Daryl, drawing him closer and closer, pressing them together and hiding his face in Daryl’s shoulder. He felt how Daryl started to shake, shuddering in tune with his own trembling body, and he squeezed his arms tighter, the answering tightening of Daryl’s hands making his eyes water. Rick knew they were both crying, but he couldn’t give a fuck. He was holding his brother, his friend, _the man he loved_ , and they were both alive. It was more than he had dreamed about. In that second, Rick was sure that nothing could tear them apart again. They wouldn’t budge even if Negan himself appeared there… Rick would probably bite his head off if he tried anything.

Their bodies calmed down soon, the familiarity of the times long past slowing down their hearts, and soon, Daryl was drawing away. Rick tightened his hands around him briefly.  
“You’re here” Rick choked out, feeling how Daryl nodded against him. He let him lean back, step away just to be smothered by more hugs and emotional greetings. It was good to see Daryl in the arms of their family, to see the tangible evidence of how much everyone here loved and cared for him.

They ate dinner with half of the Hilltop people, sitting at a big table and talking merrily. It wasn’t really a good time to be throwing such feasts, but nobody seemed to care. Maggie laughed and watched everyone with happy eyes and Rick realized that it was the first time since what had happened to Glenn that he had seen her like this. It was amazing what the close proximity of their family could achieve. They all looked as if a huge weight had been lifted from their shoulders, even Daryl. He had been quiet for the whole morning and early afternoon, but he started to actually talk now - in his own way, of course. He had never been the loudest mouth in the group, quite the opposite actually, but he had usually spoken his mind when he had thought it appropriate. It was relaxing to see him getting back to his usual state, instead of using just the well-established language of looks and shrugs as he had been doing in the morning.

Rick was glad to see him participate in the conversations, even if all Daryl had done was to exchange shrugs for grunts and two-word sentences. Rick had to talk to him, soon, and it would take two to have this conversation.

The dinner ended late, the last people to stand from the table were the closest from Rick’s group. They had begun to plan a counterattack on Negan and it had taken away all the cheeriness quickly, but Rick knew it had to be done. They finished the meeting with the plan already half-formed, and knew that they would have to finish it sooner rather than later. That’s why Maggie proposed that they should stay at the Hilltop for the night, maybe two, get their footing back and just _relax_ for a moment. She winked at Rick and Michonne when she said that, leaving them next to a house she let them take for the duration of their stay. Daryl would be there, Rick knew that. He had seen him walking in just a minute or so before. Rick looked at Michonne, knowing what Maggie’s wink had meant. Michonne just waved Maggie away and turned in the direction of the house, side-eyeing Rick.  
“Here’s your chance” she said in a low voice. Rick swallowed.  
“You really okay with this?” He asked, closing his eyes and taking a breath to calm himself.

Rick had never had this with Lori. They had been together or they had been separate, but there was nothing in-between. Rick had had a crush on Shane back in the day, a crush fueled by their teenage fumbling in dark rooms and later, in the academy. But when he had put the ring on his finger, there had never been anyone else. Michonne was different. She knew him inside and out, she knew how he ticked and what he needed. She knew exactly what he felt towards Daryl.  
“Rick” Michonne’s voice had that hushed quality to it. Her hands grabbed Rick’s wrist and turned him to face her. “Hey, look at me” she whispered. Rick reluctantly opened his eyes.

“You know I love you, right?” She asked, smiling when she saw him looking straight at her. Rick nodded.  
“I love you, too” he breathed. It was true, he loved her. He couldn’t find another woman in the whole world who he would have loved as much. She was perfect, mind, heart, and body. But there was a man who he loved just as much…  
“Go to him” Michonne smiled warmly at Rick. “Go and talk. Do something. Do _everything you want._ I’m okay with this” she leaned in and placed a gentle, chaste kiss on his lips, then she pulled away, smiling up at him brilliantly. “Go. I’ll be at Maggie’s place… got some things we need to talk about” and with that she walked slowly away, leaving Rick in front of the house. Rick swallowed and took another deep breath, steeling himself. He could do this.

 

-&-

 

When Rick walked into the house, the inside was dark and quiet. He looked around, trying to orient himself in the unfamiliar territory, before he closed the door behind him. There was a sound of another door opening and Rick followed it through the corridor, stepping quietly, until he faced an entryway to one of the bedrooms. The door was ajar, light from inside the room falling into the dark hallway, and Rick knocked on it softly. When there was no response, he waited a bit and then walked in. The room was empty, but there was water splashing somewhere in the adjacent bathroom and Rick followed the sound, coming closer.

Daryl was inside, leaning over the sink and splashing water over his face, toothbrush placed precariously on the edge near a bar of soap. He was wearing a loose set of sweatpants, naked from the waist up, his shirt thrown over a chair standing next to the sink, and Rick let himself take his bare back in.

Rick knew about the scars, he had known for a long time now. The remnants of Daryl’s past standing in stark contrast to his pale skin, still dark after all those years. But there were new marks now, scratches and cuts, dark bruises and reddened skin, all of them filling the spaces between Daryl’s scars and making Rick wince. He knew Daryl must have been tortured when Negan had kept him prisoner, but to see the actual evidence of it hurt Rick to the core. He just stood there, thinking how none of this should have happened, thinking how he would do anything to take it back… And then his mind started to think about all the ways he could make Daryl feel better, how he could wrap his arms around him and never let go. Michonne said it was fine and Rick knew that she was okay with it, so why not do it? Granted, Daryl wasn’t some fragile, scared animal, but it was clear he wasn’t alright, either. His shoulders were tense and his movements were jerky when he finished scrubbing his face clean and reached for the towel.

Rick wanted to move and hand him the towel, or better yet, he wanted to _press the towel tenderly to Daryl’s face_ , to pat it dry softly and kiss every inch of it afterwards, chasing any droplets that might have been stubborn enough to remain.  
“Ya some kind of a pervert now?” Daryl’s gruff voice startled him and Rick almost jumped. He cleared his throat, still unable to tear his eyes from Daryl’s back. Daryl turned around to face him, a hesitant smirk playing at the corners of his lips, but it fell instantly when he took Rick in.

Rick was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, one arm still holding the door frame. Daryl froze as soon as his gaze focused on Rick’s face - Rick looked distraught, skin pale and mouth half-open, but his eyes… Daryl blinked, confused. Rick’s eyes were rimmed red, watery with tears and in an instant, Daryl’s senses went into protective mode, mind whirling as flashes of something bad happening to any of his family appeared in his mind.  
“What’s wrong?” Daryl asked, eyeing Rick, who just shook his head and closed his mouth, looking away.

They stood like this for a long moment, Daryl thinking hard about the dinner they had shared and trying to piece it apart, looking for possible dangers. He found none. He was ready to ask again, when Rick moved forward, determination clear in every step, and walked right into Daryl’s personal space. One heartbeat later, Daryl felt Rick’s arms wrapping around him, squeezing him tightly and pressing them together. Rick heaved out a huge breath and exhaled it, pushing his face into Daryl’s neck and the hunter frowned.  
“What is it?”  
“I’m sorry” Rick whispered, not really looking like he wanted to move at all. He just kept squeezing the air out of Daryl’s chest, barely breathing himself. They stayed like this for a moment, but soon, Daryl was feeling restless, so he pulled away reluctantly. It was weird to just stand like this and let himself be hugged, even if his body clearly didn’t mind the close contact. It was welcome after such a long time apart, but the way Rick looked and the slight tremors wrecking his body made Daryl uneasy. It seemed that Rick had something serious on his mind and that something must have been big enough for him to work himself into quite a state. And he was tired. Daryl could see just how his eyes were half-lidded and how his movements had gotten more sluggish since dinner.

Rick let him go when Daryl stepped away, just one step back, not too far.  
“Ya wanna sit down?” Daryl asked softly, seeing as Rick looked as if he was ready to keel over. His whole body gave the impression that it was ready to fall asleep no matter that Rick was currently standing in the bathroom, and Daryl really didn’t want him to fall over and hurt himself. Not that Daryl wouldn’t catch Rick if he fell.  
“Come on” Daryl caught Rick’s wrist and led him out of the little bathroom and into the bedroom, sitting him down on the bed. Rick just stared at him, eyes never leaving Daryl’s figure as he shuffled around the room. He hadn’t moved an inch when Daryl picked up a clean pair of sweats and changed into them, he hadn’t even twitched when Daryl walked to him and knelt down. He started to take off Rick’s boots, seeing as their leader was not going to do it himself. He had gone into one of his strange funks, something that Daryl had seen happen before on the road. He knew he had to wait it out, but Rick looked like death warmed over, and it was already late, so Daryl decided that maybe putting him to bed wouldn’t be a bad idea.

He was halfway done with the boots, when he heard a sharp inhale from above. Daryl looked up just to see Rick’s eyes boring holes into him.  
“ _I love you_ ” Rick whispered and Daryl froze.  
“Wha?” He asked, eyes widening. Rick cleared his throat.  
“I love you” it was louder this time, but Rick had closed his eyes just before he had said it and Daryl finally found himself moving.

He finished taking off Rick's boots, stood up and started walking around. No. _No_. It couldn’t be… _No_. He stopped his pacing abruptly and looked at the man still sitting unmoving on the bed. Rick had been on his mind all those months since the prison. He had been on his mind every single day. He had been on his mind when Daryl had been locked up in the Saviours’ compound. Rick and his family, _their_ family was what had been keeping Daryl alive when he had endured hours of jarring music and barely no food, when he had faced fists and humiliation. Daryl had realized early on that all he had ever wanted from this post apocalyptic world was to hear those words from Rick’s mouth. But there had been complications, and Rick had never said anything like this… And there was…  
“What ‘bout Michonne?” Daryl asked, voice angrier than he had intended it to be. But those three little words had confused him like hell and he needed some mental distance between himself and his dreams coming true.

Rick almost jumped hearing the tone of his voice, and opened his eyes to look at Daryl once again. They were blue, so fucking _blue_ , Daryl thought. They were also sincere. This was Rick stripping himself bare to the bones, like he had always done when talking with Daryl about important things. Back before the Saviors had happened.  
“She is okay with this. She… We talked. Yesterday. We talked and she said she knew about me - about my feelings. She said it’s fine” Rick stumbled over the explanation, heaving in a breath and pausing for a few seconds. Daryl let him talk, not really believing what he was hearing. But Rick would never lie to him, and he knew that. It was just too good to be true.

“She said that it would be okay if we had a… if we had _this_ ” he trailed off and Daryl frowned.  
“This? The fuck does that mean, huh? An affair? A _what_ , Rick?” Daryl could feel himself getting angry for real this time. He would give anything to be with Rick, but it still jarred at his nerves to be the third wheel in this romance bullshit. He would die for Rick and he would kill for Rick and if Rick asked for a fuck Daryl would say yes, but if Rick was trying to treat him like a side dish then Daryl wasn’t sure he could cope with that.  
“I don’t know” Rick shook his head helplessly, looking down at his hands. He looked so small and not like a leader at all that Daryl felt a pang somewhere deep in his chest.  
“Whaddaya want it t’ be?” Daryl gruffed, trying to keep his voice level. Rick sighed.

“I don’t know. I want you _both_. I love Michonne more than my own life. But. I love you just as much… Daryl, _god,_ I couldn’t sleep or eat or fucking _live_ when they had you in that damned cell. They took you away and I thought I’d never see you again… And I couldn’t do shit about it, or they would have killed Carl. _Negan_ would, I know he would. And yesterday Michonne had to wake me up from another nightmare… Daryl. Jesus” Rick curled up where he was sitting, hiding his face in his hands, his breathing heavy and erratic. Daryl stepped closer and sat down next to him. Not knowing what to do, he placed one hand on Rick’s arm. Rick was shaking.

“I dreamed about you. I dreamed about you dying and I was the one _holding_ that fucking bat and… And I just wanted to _die,_ Daryl. When Michonne woke me up I didn’t know whether to scream or cry. I was a mess and she just _knew_. She told me it would be okay, she told me that she knew what I… _I love you, Daryl”_ Rick whispered, voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to make it work… but I want to make it work. I know we _can_ figure it out. If you’ll have me, Daryl” Rick talked on, words hushed and quiet, but the way he said them made Daryl want to wrap his arms around him and hold him tightly. Rick looked lost and hurting and all of Daryl’s protective instincts kicked in all at once.

And, he wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea of being with Rick like this. Hell, he knew that people had been doing this poly-whatever before the world had gone to shit. Maybe they could make it work? Daryl knew that Michonne had never been the jealous type and he knew that she never said what wasn’t on her mind. Daryl closed his eyes and tried to picture the three of them, together. At first the picture of him and Michonne swapping Rick between them had been so ridiculous that Daryl almost winced. But, when he thought again, when he thought to all those moments where he had had the urge to just push Rick against the nearest wall and kiss him senseless after he had done something truly heroic, only to be stopped by Michonne doing exactly that… Maybe they could kiss Rick in turns? Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to share Rick? If Daryl thought hard enough, it even seemed possible to share Rick between them at the same time, along with whatever bed they could stumble upon.

Daryl had had a few tumbles in the hay - or rather _grass_ \- with Michonne back in the prison era. They were wild wolves, chasing after the Governor, and they had shared more than a mattress on a few occasions… Maybe they could do it again?

“Alright” Daryl whispered softly and Rick tensed. He slowly turned to look at him, reddened eyes focused on Daryl’s face.  
“Daryl?” Rick breathed and Daryl smiled a little, just to reassure Rick that everything was fine.  
“I said _alright_. If Michonne’s okay with it, then so am I” Daryl explained, his stare softening as if all the anger he had felt just a few minutes ago had miraculously melted away. Rick sighed as if all the air left him all at once and leaned into Daryl, turning a bit so his face ended up pressed into Daryl’s neck. The hunter could feel him getting heavy against him - it seemed that now, when Rick finally knew where he stood with Daryl, his whole body just relaxed, leaving him boneless against Daryl’s frame.

Daryl started considering tucking Rick into bed and just leaving him to get some obviously needed sleep, but when he tried to pull away, Rick grunted. It was just a little noise, but it sounded so confused that Daryl stopped moving completely, his heart doing a strange little flop. And then Rick’s arms shifted and circled around Daryl’s waist, clumsy and uncoordinated, slow in their progress as if Rick was already half-asleep. Daryl was happy he had taken most of his clothes off before he had gone to the bathroom to wash up, otherwise the next part would have been even more ridiculous. He wrapped his own arms around Rick’s boneless body and started to awkwardly move the both of them up the bed. The crawl was strange, Rick was almost a dead weight clinging to him sleepily, and Daryl was actually pretty wound up once he finished the whole process. He laid Rick on the pillows, shushing him gently when he had to detach himself for a moment.

Once Daryl leaned back, he realized Rick was still fully clothed, so he started to quickly disrobe him, tugging off his trousers and starting to unbutton the blue shirt he was wearing. Daryl decided to leave it on, opting to just open it to give Rick some freedom of movement. Rick blinked his eyes open and looked at him blearily, an exhausted expression plastered all over his face.  
“Daryl?” He mumbled just as Daryl was finishing opening his shirt.  
“Ya need t’ sleep” Daryl stated softly, but the tone was firm enough to make Rick nod in understanding. Daryl made to get off the bed, but Rick grabbed his arm with surprising speed.  
“Stay?” He asked, looking a bit more awake than just a second ago. Daryl frowned, not really understanding where the sudden change had come from, but then it dawned on him. _Rick was scared that Daryl would leave_. It was all there, really - Rick’s suddenly wide eyes, the quickening breathing, the strength with which he gripped Daryl’s arm. The realization made Daryl’s throat tighten and he nodded, waiting for Rick to loosen his grip before he stood up and padded across the room to turn off the light.

When he got back on the bed and dragged the covers up over the both of them, Rick immediately curled up against him. Daryl frowned, feeling a few spots of cold touching his skin - Rick’s body seemed to be fucking _freezing_. And so, Daryl shifted, turning to face Rick and wrapping his arm around Rick’s chest to tug him closer. There was a sharp inhale and Rick tensed for the briefest of moments, before he relaxed against Daryl’s chest, one hand sneaking around his waist to hold onto the hunter.

 

-&-

 

When Daryl woke, it was still dark outside, but the moon was shining brightly and its soft light was illuminating the whole bedroom. He blinked, confused, and looked around trying to orient himself, before he remembered that he was in Hilltop. And then Daryl froze, because that reminded him of Rick, and oh _fuck…_

Moving gingerly, Daryl turned around, eyes immediately landing on Rick lying beside him, body curled up towards Daryl. The hunter settled back down, content to just watch his friend, his leader - his _lover_ now, too, apparently - but then Rick stirred, as if he had felt Daryl staring at him. Rick’s eyes opened and focused on him, and Rick smiled sleepily, shifting even closer, tucking his face into Daryl’s neck. The action looked so natural that Daryl froze for a moment, thinking that he should have been more surprised… But it just felt right to have Rick like this, pressing as close to him as he could. So Daryl relaxed after a few seconds, letting one of his hands travel to the back of Rick’s head and threading his fingers through the wild curls he had. Rick hummed at that, the sound traveling through Daryl’s body and making him shiver.

Rick must have noticed his reaction, for he hummed again, this time louder, and pressed his lips to the sensitive spot just behind Daryl’s ear. This time, Daryl gave a quiet groan and his fingers tightened in Rick’s hair, who took it as an invitation to do whatever his sleep-addled brain wished. He started to lick and kiss all over Daryl’s neck, laying sweet little bites up his throat and sucking on his pulsepoint. Daryl could feel every single touch, every little nibble and lick, and his body started to react to all of them at once. His skin was tingling wherever Rick pressed his lips to it, shivers thundered down his spine just to pool there with that kind of sticky-sweet heat which Daryl hadn’t felt for a long time.

And then Rick’s hands started to move, first just rubbing in tiny little circles, slowly becoming more insistent, pressing into Daryl’s skin and muscles, tracing the shape of his ribs. One hand went further, slipping a bit, fingers grazing his back, and Daryl tensed. Rick pulled away, looking at him with confusion, before his expression cleared and he looked down at Daryl’s chest. The blanket they were covered with had slipped a bit and just a part of Daryl’s chest was uncovered. The skin there was bruised and scratched, and when Rick took it all in, his whole face softened. Daryl watched, amazed, as he leaned down and placed a soft, gentle kiss on one of the older bruises, then switched to another, this one barely formed yet. He went on, hands never leaving Daryl’s skin and the hunter couldn’t help the little flutter his heart did when he felt Rick’s sweet touches.

Rick knew about the bruises, he had seen them before when they had been talking in the bathroom. His heart was breaking with every new one he uncovered, but he couldn’t do anything about them now. So he chose the next best thing - he decided to kiss them better. Daryl slowly relaxed under his hands, no longer tense, but there was still this undercurrent of nerves practically vibrating through his body. Rick frowned and moved his hands, intent on soothing his hunter, but as soon as he slipped them a bit further back over his ribs, Daryl’s whole body gave a jolt.  
“Rick” Daryl’s voice was uneven and it sounded like he tried to stop it from cracking. Rick looked up at him, taking in Daryl’s anxious expression. Never breaking the eye-contact, Rick splayed his fingers wide and pressed them into Daryl’s skin gently, moving them up and down, fingertips tracing old and new scars.

Daryl hadn’t been self-conscious about his scars for a long time and he knew that feeling like this now was illogical. Rick had seen his back already, all of the marks - the new and the old ones - had been clearly visible when he had walked into that bathroom last evening. But Daryl still felt raw and broken after what the Saviors had done to him and knowing that Rick had seen the damage...  
“It’s okay” Rick whispered, seeing how Daryl bit his lip. “It’s alright…” Rick dove down and placed a kiss just over Daryl’s heart.  
“ _Rick_ ” Daryl breathed out, both hands traveling to Rick’s head, cradling his face delicately.  
“I love you” Rick stated, voice low but so deadly serious that Daryl’s breath caught. He gripped Rick’s hair and tugged him upwards, until he could lean in and press his lips to Rick’s.

Rick moaned into the kiss, opening his mouth and letting Daryl’s curious tongue in. He stroked it with his own playfully, then caught it between his teeth and sucked on it, making Daryl groan and melt beneath him. This time, when Rick moved his hands, slipping them between the mattress and Daryl’s back, Daryl didn’t protest.

Rick’s hips moved closer, pressing into Daryl’s groin, and Daryl could feel just how much Rick liked what they were doing. He was hard, his length feeling hot even through Rick’s boxers and Daryl’s sweatpants. He ground down into Daryl’s hips with single-minded intent, but he didn’t seem to be rushing anywhere. The power behind every thrust was there, but the pace was languid, _lazy_ even, and when their cocks finally aligned in the right way, Daryl groaned aloud, breaking the kiss to heave in a few wheezing breaths.  
“Fuck” Daryl grunted out, head fuzzy with arousal.  
_“Daryl”_ Rick growled in return, his left hand shifting to the small of Daryl’s back, keeping him in place as if he was afraid that Daryl would try to move away. His other hand sneaked into Daryl’s hair, fingers tangling in Daryl’s overgrown bangs, threading through them for a moment, before Rick gripped them and tugged Daryl forward for another kiss.

This kiss was filled with hunger, the playfulness of the previous one giving way to passion and longing. Rick kissed him as if he wanted to crawl inside Daryl, carve a place for himself somewhere within Daryl’s body and just live there. And it wasn’t just in the kiss, it wasn’t just the way Rick’s tongue dove deep inside Daryl’s mouth or in the way his lips were relentless against Daryl’s own. Rick’s whole frame was vibrating with emotions, his nervous system working itself into overdrive as he tried to touch as much of Daryl as he could.

“Fuck, Rick” Daryl moaned out and the sweet sound sent shivers down Rick’s spine. There was something intoxicating in the knowledge that he could make Daryl do that. Every expletive and moan from Daryl were pushing Rick closer to losing his damn mind, and he loved every second of it. He let his hands roam all over Daryl’s body, fingertips tracing muscles and bones alike, learning every shape and every soft exhale that followed the gentle exploration. Daryl started to writhe underneath him, twisting on the bed and trying to push into Rick’s wandering hands. He ceased his relentless squirming only when Rick’s hands finally found his hips, palms wrapping around the bones visible even under Daryl’s pants, thumbs rubbing into the hollows. Rick pulled away then, his fingers still teasing the delicate skin, and he looked into Daryl’s eyes, trying to convey all his emotions in a single gaze.

Daryl blinked at him and ducked his head, and Rick frowned, thinking he might have overstepped some kind of invisible line. They hadn’t talked much about this, after all. But then he caught the way Daryl’s eyes fixed themselves on his groin, bracketed nicely by Rick’s hands still splayed over his hips, and Daryl _licked his lips_ … Rick’s hesitation melted away instantly. Daryl wanted this, Daryl wanted _them,_ and Rick was only too happy to provide. He shifted a bit backwards, adjusting his position.  
_“Daryl”_ He murmured, diving down and licking a broad stripe over Daryl’s abdomen. The muscles quivered under his tongue and Rick closed his eyes, pressing a few kisses there, open mouthed and wet, sloppy in his eagerness to taste Daryl’s skin. He wanted to lick every square inch of his hunter’s body, kiss every bruise and scar, drag his teeth over every twitching muscle and sinew…

Just the mental image of laying Daryl out on the bed and feasting on his body made Rick’s blood boil. His hands moved on their own, fingers hooking under the waistband of Daryl’s pants, tugging them down and out of the way. Daryl arched under him, a small hiss leaving his lips. Once the pants were out of the way, Rick looked down, the moonlight illuminating the room just enough to let him see all the important parts. His mouth watered so quickly he thought he might start drooling.

Daryl’s cock was thick, hard and hot where it rested on his belly, the veins pulsing on its base inviting Rick to press his lips against them. It was exactly what Rick did, too. He leaned down and let himself take a long, slow breath, inhaling Daryl’s musky scent, before he gave him a long and luxurious lick. Daryl’s hips canted forward, his body seeking more of the delicious sensations, and Rick couldn’t deny him any more than he could deny himself the pleasure of having Daryl in his mouth. He adjusted the angle and dove in, wrapping his lips around the head, running his tongue all over the sensitive flesh, all the while trying to concentrate enough to keep on sucking.

It was hard - Daryl’s skin was too damn delightful, his scent leaving Rick’s head fuzzy with arousal, the heat of the length in his mouth pulling a moan from him.  
“Shit, _Rick_ ” Daryl cursed above him when Rick took a bit more of him inside. Daryl regretted not having a proper light in the room right now, especially when Rick looked up and their eyes met. The moonlight was illuminating the room just enough to see Rick’s fiery, sparkling gaze, and that alone was enough to push Daryl a bit closer to the edge. The barely-visible shape of Rick’s lips stretched around his cock was just a bonus.  
“Fuck… come ‘ere” Daryl gasped, hands grabbing Rick’s hair blindly, tugging him up. Once Rick was level with Daryl, the hunter pressed their lips together, tongue delving in and claiming Rick’s mouth.

Rick groaned into the kiss, the sound tapering off into a whine when he felt Daryl’s hands moving down his body, rubbing along his back, just to push Rick’s boxers down and settle on his ass. Daryl squeezed both cheeks, urging Rick’s hips to move, and Rick started to rock them gently again, the pace quickly getting more rapid and decidedly more dirty with every quiet noise escaping Daryl. Rick couldn’t help it if he tried - Daryl was just too delicious not to rub all over him. The feeling was heady and it went straight to Rick’s cock and he ground against the hot body with more urgency, feeling himself nearing the edge quickly.

And then Daryl’s hands, still placed on Rick’s ass, squeezed and pulled at both cheeks, exposing Rick’s hole to the cool air. One of Daryl’s fingers stretched inwards, rubbing over the tiny opening and Rick was done for. He rocked against Daryl reflexively, even as his body tensed all over, and he came with a whine of Daryl’s name, spilling between them.  
“Jesus… _fuck_ , Daryl” Rick moaned out, clutching at Daryl’s broad shoulders to ground himself, while his body rode out his orgasm. Daryl just groaned, leaning in and biting at Rick’s neck to muffle the shout that started to bubble in his chest. Rick’s hips were still twitching when the hunter added to the mess between them, arching up against Rick’s form, now heavy and sated on top of him.

It took them a while to calm down, every faint aftershock running through one of them provoking an answering tremor to start in the other. Not that they cared - in the darkness still around them, their shared body heat made them feel safe and loved. Their wandering hands never ceased their movements completely, even when they were back to that state of half-asleep drowsiness, their fingers searched for new flesh to touch, new skin to rub against and a new place to rest for a moment, before they went on.

 

-&-

 

In the morning, the biggest surprise was no awkwardness during breakfast. Daryl woke first, went to the kitchen and started to make some tea. They had run out of coffee a long time ago, but there was still that awfully bad tea… it would have to do. He brewed two cups of it, intent on carrying them back to the bedroom, to give one of them to Rick. Daryl didn’t even know why he had this sudden urge to give the tea to Rick. He was faintly aware that it might have fallen under the category of _romantic gestures_ but he didn’t really have time to dwell on it. The tea was made, so he took both cups and turned around.

Only to find Rick standing in the doorway.

Daryl had a brief moment of panic when he realized just how fucking _romantic_ it must have looked, but Rick only smiled and padded softly to him, clad only in his boxers.  
“Made ya tea” Daryl gruffed out for lack of anything better to say. Rick didn’t seem to mind, though. He took the offered cup and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss on Daryl’s lips, surprising the hunter into silence. Daryl watched as Rick grabbed the tea and padded on, sitting at the table and sipping from the cup with his eyes closed. Daryl swallowed and moved finally, taking the chair next to Rick and taking a sip of his own.

As soon as Rick sensed Daryl next to him, he hummed, placed his tea on the table and leaned to the side, pressing his temple into Daryl’s shoulder, eyes still closed. And just like that, all possible hesitation and awkwardness left Daryl. He closed his eyes, too, and relaxed into Rick, content to enjoy the quiet morning.

“Got some tea left?” A voice asked and they both opened their eyes only to see Michonne standing in the doorway and smiling at them.  
“Sure” Rick grinned and got up to brew her a cup, while Daryl watched as Michonne walked to the table and sat down next to him. She fixed him with a stare, but there was no hostility in it, only something that looked a lot like curiosity.  
“So…” she started, licking her lips, “did you two get any sleep, or…”

Daryl groaned, letting his head fall down on the table with a loud bang.  
“We’ll show you later” Rick huffed out a quiet laugh, bringing Michonne her tea.  
“I hope you will” she winked at him and Rick smiled, taking his seat next to Daryl. His hand immediately went to Daryl’s thigh and the hunter straightened up, body going rigid. He side-eyed Rick, but Rick was just looking at him with that thousand-watt smile of his, hand still planted firmly on Daryl’s leg.  
“It’s okay” Michonne soothed and Daryl turned to face her.  
“Ya really okay with tha’?” He asked, voice barely over a whisper.  
“Yes. As long as you don’t kick me out in the middle of the night” she grinned at him and Daryl was reminded about the time they had been chasing the Governor. He suddenly found the courage to smirk at her.

“We can figure it out” Daryl nodded and felt Rick’s hand squeeze his thigh.


End file.
